“Great. So what’s on it?”
“Opening it now,” Owen said, decisively dropping his index finger onto one of the keys. A window flashed up onto the monitor in front of them. Arcane symbols, identical to those on Owen’s keyboard, filled the box like rows of text. The lines shifted across the page as they went down, moving out and in from the side like a wave.
“Oh, shit,” Owen exclaimed.
“What? What is it?” Matt asked, but the only reply he got was silence.
* * * *
01:21, Pike Street, East District
Damos swung in low on the bike, bringing it to a stop in a park not far from Pike Street. After taking a moment to chain the bike to a fence, he dashed off towards the target’s location. He soon reached number twenty-three. Ignoring the front entrance, he found a fire escape affixed to the side of the neighbouring building and ascended to the roof. Peering over at number twenty-three, he located a broken window into the top floor. Taking a run up, he leapt from the rooftop without a second thought, catching the window ledge and landing in a crouch against the wall.
Damos quickly scanned the interior. It seemed to be a store room. Most importantly, there were no people. Damos rolled over the windowsill and slid inside.
Now to find the target, he thought as he summoned a blade.
Damos crept out onto a landing area and began checking each room he found. All were devoid of people. With the top floor covered, he took a moment to adjust the cloth which covered most of his face and crept down the stairs. He kept low, making sure to get a look at the room before the majority of his body became visible. An encircled eight-pointed star was drawn in the centre.
Nexus was here, but they’re clearly gone now.
As the floor seemed to consist of a single room, he stopped only long enough to check no one was hiding from him before heading to the stairs again. As the ground floor came into view, a glint of silver caught his eye.
There’s Matt’s bike, Damos thought. As he progressed further, a pair of chairs became visible. Curled up on one was a girl, her long blonde hair splayed over one of the armrests. Her chest peacefully rose and sank as she breathed.
Not so awake now.
Making sure not to get too ahead of himself, Damos scanned his eyes over the rest of the room, but it appeared to be deserted. He continued to the bottom of the staircase and silently moved to the sleeping woman.
Time to finish this.
* * * *
01:23, The Flat, West District
As had become a common occurrence, Izzy was woken by raised voices.
Will they ever stop arguing? she thought, hearing Victoria’s voice.
She rolled over and drew the covers in, doing her best to ignore them. Light flooded the room as her door was hurled open.
“Izzy, get up, now,” Owen said.
“What? Why?”
“We’re being attacked. My camera’s just picked up a dozen mercs heading up to our floor. I disabled the lift after they got in, but that won’t stop them for long. Come on, we need to go.”
Izzy threw the covers back and climbed out of bed. Still half asleep, she threw open her draws, grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them over her night shorts.
“Hurry,” Owen said as she struggled to get them on. Eventually she managed to pull them up and fasten the button.
“Who sent them?” Izzy heard Matt say as she left her room.
“Hell if I know. I more care how they found us,” Victoria replied.
“How do we know they’re coming for us?” Izzy asked.
“Who else would they be coming for on our floor?” Victoria snapped.
“They’ve broken out of the lift. They’re heading up the stairs now,” Owen said.
“Should we call Damos?” Matt asked.
“No, leave him to finish the job,” Victoria replied. “I’ll deal with this lot. You three get out of here.”
“I won’t leave you,” Matt replied.
“I can handle them. Go.”
“No, not again!” Matt shouted.
Victoria let out a yell of frustration. “Fine, get your gear and cover me. Owen, take Izzy out the escape. We’ll meet you at the safe house.”
“Got it. Good luck,” Owen replied. Putting his arm around Izzy, he said, “let’s go,” and directed her into Damos’s room.
“Help me move his bed,” Owen said. Izzy nodded and grabbed one of the bed posts. “One, two, three!” The pair heaved the bed aside to reveal a small trap door. Izzy clambered over to it and hauled it open. A large metal duct was revealed underneath.
“Do the building owners know about all these modifications?”
“Ha, no. I’m guessing they will soon though. Shame, I liked this place.”
“Me too,” Izzy said as she climbed down into the duct. Having been made to fit the likes of Damos and Victoria, she had no trouble sliding inside. Owen followed behind. They crawled a short way until Izzy reached a grille. She looked through the grating to see the corridor of the floor below their flat.
“Wait,” Owen whispered. “Once the mercs go past, we make our move. Until then, not a sound.”
Izzy nodded, and the wait began.
* * * *
“Ready,” Matt said as he removed the safety on his shotgun. He stood in the doorway to one of the rooms, the barrel pointed straight at the door. A bulletproof vest covered his torso and a pistol sat holstered at his side. Wearing the kit again felt odd, but at the same time weirdly familiar. He could feel the press of his dog tag against his chest. Despite never leaving his neck, it hadn’t felt quite normal to wear it until now.
Victoria glanced back before returning her attention to the door.
“Make sure not to hit me with that,” she remarked.
“Like it would matter,” Matt replied. “You ready?”
“Always. Let’s bring these bastards the pain.”
The slivers of silver which lined Victoria’s body began to glow. Lines of solid mana filled them, tracing the curves of her body. They expanded out, interweaving with her own muscles and latching onto ligaments. The tendrils that replaced Victoria’s left arm shot out rigid. They widened as a blue glow expanded between them. Soon they were enveloped by it, blue extending beyond them and forming into an arm. The tip grew into a bulge and split, forming into a hand, and for the first time in many months, Victoria was whole once more.
The pair waited in almost silence, the hum of Victoria’s grafts the only sound. From his position, Matt could see the mercenaries charging up the stairs on one of Owen’s monitors. He watched as they passed from one floor to the next. Before he knew it they were outside. They lined up on either side of the door as two brought a battering ram through.
Here we go, Matt thought as they drew the ram back and smashed it into the door. There was a loud thud, along with the sound of cracking wood, but the assorted bolts which interlaced the door held. Victoria didn’t bother waiting for the second attempt. She leapt forwards, her holographic arm reforming into a blade. Using her artificial eye to see the guards, she rammed her arm through the door. Matt glanced at the monitor and saw her catch one of the guards in the chest. His body jolted with shock, dropping the battering ram. A moment later Victoria tore her arm free and Matt watched the guard slide to the ground.
Only the target... unless you’re attacking us, in which case, good luck to you.
The rest of the guards raised their guns in an instant and began to fire blind through the door. The reinforcements stopped some of the bullets, but many more made their way through. They impacted on Victoria’s chest, but the wall of mana covering her body shielded her. Victoria let out a scream and kicked the door. The frame shattered and the door flew back, sending several mercenaries flying. She charged through after them, slicing two more of the mercenaries up before they knew what had happened.
Matt opened fire with his shotgun, taking out another. He lurched aside as one took a shot at him, reloading his gun and firing back. Th
e mercenary’s protective vest did little to help, and he fell back against the wall.
By this point Victoria had finished off several more mercenaries. Matt heard one of the few remaining call, “retreat!” and they turned and fled. In a fit of rage, Victoria thrust her arm out at the trailing mercenary. It extended, morphing back into a hand which grabbed the man’s head. Without a second though, Victoria crushed the man’s skull.
Time to tell Owen and Izzy it’s safe, Matt thought, turning to go into Damos’s room. As he did, he caught sight of movement on one of Owen’s monitors and felt his stomach clench.
Shit, no! No, no, no!
He ran into Owen’s room, not believing what he saw as a second group of mercenaries bundled a pair of bodies out the front of the building.
“Victoria, there was a second team. They’ve taken Izzy and Owen!”
“On it,” Matt heard her call, but he knew she would be too slow. Even with her augmented form, she couldn’t reach the ground floor in time.
Come on, think. There must be something you can do.
Matt suddenly realised he was still wearing his earpiece from when he had been with Damos earlier that evening.
Please be almost back, Matt thought as he reached up and pressed to talk.
* * * *
01:26, Nexus Outpost, East District
Just as Damos began to bring the blade down, a voice crackled to life in is ear.
“Damos, where are you? We’ve been attacked. Owen and Izzy are being taken.”
Damn it! Damos thought, halting the knife’s decent.
No stupid. Finish the job first, then reply.
He raised the knife again. The girl stirred, woken by a combination of the knife’s glow and the motion.
“Jackal?” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering open. Panic gripped her when she saw the knife. She screamed, kicking out. Damos side-stepped and brought the knife down. It struck the chair, missing the girl as she rolled behind him. She kicked again, catching Damos in the knee. His leg buckled and he fell. The girl tried to run, but Damos reached out and caught her ankle. He yanked it back, causing her to fall. She kicked back with her other leg. Damos dissipated his blade and grabbed her shin. She writhed and desperately scrabbled for grip, but nothing was within reach. Keeping her legs pinned with his own, Damos dragged himself up and over her, pinning her arms with his.
“Damos, reply for goodness sake!” he heard Matt shout through his earpiece.
Bloody hell, Damos thought. Pressing his forearm over the girl’s throat, he leant back so that his head was out of her reach and activated the microphone.
“Shut up Matt, I’m in the middle of something.”
“Owen and Izzy are… have been taken. We’re too slow to chase them, you have the bike. Where are you?”
“Pike Street. I won’t make it.”
“No. That means they’re gone. Damn it!” Damos heard a thump as Matt hit something in frustration. Ignoring it, Damos took out the earpiece and returned his attention to the girl.
Blade, he thought, another knife forming in his gloved hand.
“Wait,” the girl shouted. Damos ignored her, bringing the knife round to her neck. He could see the panic in her eyes. The girl grabbed his arm and pushed back, but it was no use.
“Wait, stop,” the girl shouted again. “I know who killed your parents.”
Damos froze.
“What did you say?”
“I know the Gifted who killed your parents. If you let me live, I’ll take you to them.”
Damos remained still.
How could she know? That had been years ago. But she knew they were killed by a freeloader. How else could she know that?
Damos eased the pressure from his arm and dissipated the blade.
“You turn on me, you’re dead,” he said, releasing her completely. The girl instantly scrabbled to her feet and ran for the exit. Damos was quicker and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. He said nothing, instead shooting her a warning look. Keeping a firm grip on her wrist, he bent down a picked up the earpiece, putting it back in. As it approached his ear a woman’s voice grew in volume.
“… answer me, you incompetent piece of shit,” Victoria screamed.
“Yes,” Damos replied.
“You’ve got some nerve! How dare you ignore-”
“I was doing my job,” Damos replied coldly.
“And is it done?”
Damos glanced up at the girl.
“Yes.”
“Good, then get your ass to the safe house. We need to figure out how to get Owen and Izzy back.”
“But-”
“No buts. Get there now, or you’ll wish you’d never been born.”
The line went dead. Damos remained silent for a moment, thinking over the options. Eventually he turned to the girl.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her towards the door. “We have somewhere to be.”
Chapter 7 - Terror
02:12, Outer City, North District
What have you done? You have no idea who killed his parents, and now you’re stuck on the back of a jet bike with a psychopath.
She and Damos shot through the night air, keeping low, weaving between the buildings. She had no idea where they were heading and couldn’t build up the nerve to ask. Damos still had a firm grip on her wrist, made all the more unnerving by the fact that it made him steer with one hand.
They swerved and turned onto a road which lead to a bridge. Despite there being no real reason to stick to roads, they seemed to be doing it anyway. Lily guessed it might help with remembering directions, or just in avoiding tall buildings.
As they crossed the bridge, Lily looked round and out along the river. It stretched into the distance, gently meandering its way through the city. Although Lily couldn’t see far, she knew that should she follow the river for long enough, it would leave the city and flow out to the Colonies.
Why did I have to leave? The Colonies were so peaceful. As if in answer to her question, memories of Ethan came back to her, and tears welled up in her eyes, only to be cruelly snatched away by the wind.
And now I’m sat on a bike with his killer.
They reached the other end of the bridge, and Lily looked back round at the brute sat in front of her. She focused, trying to probe his emotions, but all she felt was a void.
How can a man be so broken as to not feel anything?
A few minutes later Lily felt the bike begin to descend. She looked around to see they were surrounded by fancy-looking houses made of sculpted stone. Elegant windows and florid balconies covered their exteriors.
And I thought Ethan’s place was expensive, Lily thought as Damos set the bike down outside one of the houses. He swung his leg over the front and began to walk up to one of the houses, practically pulling Lily off the bike. She stumbled but recovered, teetering along behind Damos as they made their way up the drive. Upon reaching the front door, Damos reached to his belt and grabbed a small key. He inserted it into the lock and twisted, resulting in a series of clicks before the door slid open.
The house was just as fancy inside as out. Oil paintings in ornate picture frames covered lavish wallpaper down a front hall. Wooden flooring extended down the corridor, lit up by a mini chandelier. It was only once Damos had closed the door and led her inside that she realised the house smelt of damp, and that layers of dust sat atop the picture frames.
Damos pulled her along the entrance hall and into one of the neighbouring rooms. It was decorated similarly to the hall, except with wood panelling in place of wallpaper. A marble fireplace was set into the far wall, with candles and a clock sat upon the mantle. The clock was clearly broken as it read half past five. A pair of sofas and an armchair were positioned around a small coffee table, above which hung a full-sized chandelier.
“Sit there,” Damos said, releasing Lily’s wrist and pointing to the armchair. Lily did as she was told. The chair was much more pleasant than the one she had been sleeping in before, and y
et she was far less comfortable. Damos took a seat on one of the sofas and sat staring at the far wall, fidgeting to himself.
The pair remained in silence for quite some time. Tiredness gripped Lily, but her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. She looked at Damos, trying once again to get a reading on him, but she still felt nothing.
The longer she sat, the more tempting it became to try and escape, but every time her gaze fell upon Damos’s gloved hand. An image of the knife would appear in her head, held a hair’s width above her neck.
There’s no way I could escape; he’d be on me in seconds. What the hell are we doing here anyway? We must be waiting for someone, presumably the person he was talking to earlier. I guess they’re also part of the group Weasel mentioned. Where the hell were he and Jackal anyway? They said they’d stay with me! If they had, none of this would have happened. Unless… unless he killed them too?
Lily was distracted by a rattling sound, followed by a creak as the front door opened.
“Hello?” a male voice called.
“Here,” Damos replied. Footsteps echoed from the hall and a man with short, blonde hair appeared in the doorway. Lily recognised him instantly as the man whose bike she’d stolen earlier that night. He opened his mouth to speak, then saw Lily and froze in surprise.
“Out the way,” came a second voice as a woman appeared behind the man. She seemed normal at first glance, but as the man stepped aside Lily felt her insides turn.
What has been done to her? Lily thought in terror. Her instinct was to look away, to run away, but her brain wouldn’t let her. She was transfixed by a horrified sense of curiosity.
A moment later the woman noticed her and looked round. Both her natural and artificial eyes narrowed.
“Who’s she?” A look of realisation overcame her face. “Please don’t tell me-”
Damos nodded.
“Why isn’t she dead?”
“She knows the Freeloader who killed my parents,” Damos replied.
“Really? How do you know that?”
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